


Dear Neighbour Mine

by issabella



Series: Unlikely Neighbours [1]
Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Alternate Universe - Still Have Powers, M/M, Prompt Fic, Shaw dies, Threats of Violence, Vampire Erik, Vampire Hunter Shaw, Werewolf Charles, prickly neighbors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-20
Updated: 2013-12-11
Packaged: 2018-01-02 04:23:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1052477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/issabella/pseuds/issabella
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fill for the prompt by <a href="../../../users/lonelyparts/pseuds/lonelyparts">Lonelyparts</a>: Charles is a telepathic werewolf living next door to a vampire who favours severe black turtlenecks and metal coffins.  </p><p>Of course they have to annoy each other first, before dangerous circumstances bring them together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> [Lonelyparts](../../../users/lonelyparts/pseuds/lonelyparts) did not only a great job letting this clawed and fanged plotbunny loose but also tediously betad the fic again. Otherwise I would have to hide under a cone of shame for my butchering of the English language.
> 
> #  
> '….' is for normal thoughts  
> 'italic' is when Charles and Erik are deliberately trying to communicate via Charles' telepathy
> 
> Warning: blood and gore. This is about a bloodthirsty vampire and a feral werewolf after all. Despite any issued threats they don't hurt each other though.

 

To Mr. Werewolf at 337 Westchester Road,

 

I do understand that werewolves are slaves to their primitive urges, but please refrain from howling at the full moon when it is still DAYLIGHT and the bloody thing shows up early!

 

Your Vampire Neighbour

 

 

To my dear Vampire Neighbour,

 

the urge to howl at the full moon is genetically encoded in my werewolf genes, like say, your vampire-genes make you salivate at the sight of just anyone’s neck. Suppressing these urges would be unnatural. Since I had no complaints from any other neighbours and you are dead in your coffin during daytime anyway, I am afraid I have to tell you to _suck it up_.

 

Your neighbouring Werewolf

 

 

To Mr. Werewolf at 337 Westchester Road,

 

How am I not surprised that you too are prone to the misconception of vampires being dead to the world during daytime. I am merely unable to move, but keenly aware of all that goes on around me. So your annoying howling does reach my sensitive ears. If you can't control your urges, just howl into a pillow.

 

Your Vampire Neighbour

 

 

To my dear Vampire Neighbour,

 

I am terribly sorry, that I wasn't privy to that little piece of information about vampires – though I have to say, with vampires not sharing any information about themselves, it is hardly a surprise that these myths still exist. As for your sensitive ears, how about you use some earplugs, so no bothersome sounds reach your ears.

 

Your neighbouring Werewolf

 

PS: I was told by other neighbours, that they found my howling not at all disturbing, but on the contrary a soothing and lulling sound that let them drift off to sleep.

 

 

To Mr. Werewolf at 337 Westchester Road,

 

Clearly the other neighbours are tone-deaf. There is a perfectly good forest behind the house, why don't you scamper off to there when your beastly instincts take over.

And please refrain from marking my metal fence that borders your property, or I will adopt measures. 

 

Your Vampire Neighbour

 

 

To my dear Vampire Neighbour,

 

Planting the _Coleus canina_ along your fence, very amusing. Since you pride yourself on keen senses, I hope you enjoy the pungent smell as much as I do. 

I will perform a moon-serenade in your honour tonight, hope you'll enjoy.

 

Your neighbouring Werewolf

 

 

This was the start of a very long conversation – in writing between the two neighbours of Westchester Road 337 and 339 respectively, Erik Lehnsherr, vampire with metal-controlling abilities, and Charles Xavier, telepathic werewolf. They never spoke to each other directly, but the notes they passed between themselves via their mailboxes were a fixed occurrence of their day.

It wasn't that they didn't meet in person now and then. They were neighbours after all. But whenever they did, their interactions consisted of glares, stares, sharp hisses and growls.

 

xxx

 

Charles held the door open for his sister, Raven, who was carrying a tray of cinnamon-blueberry-muffins, his favourites. “Come on in.”

 

“I'll just put them in the kitchen.” Raven went straight in. She didn't visit regularly, sometimes months passed between visits, but however long she stayed away, the old Xavier-family house still felt like a second home to her.

 

“Mhm.” Charles only answered absently, his gaze fixed onto the house next to his. It had been a nice house, the wooden panelling painted a pale green with a white wooden fence to match. But then the vampire happened and the whole house got - 'modernized'. The upper storey had survived, though now it was painted an unholy pale purplish colour, that, in Charles' opinion, spoke volumes of the owner's bad taste. The lower part though was the real abomination. It had been remodelled with a lot of steel, concrete and very little glass. Also the wooden fence was gone and had been replaced by one of black steel – with spikes on top.

 

Charles looked to the sky, slowly turning from blue to black while the horizon changed to a pinkish red. He wondered if his neighbour was up yet. He could use his telepathy to sneak in a glance, but of course that would have been immoral. Though if the damn vampire continues to rile him up, he will surely break that rule sooner rather than later. Wouldn't it be nice to see if he could mess with his head enough to make him believe the sun was shining 24/7, so he wouldn't come out of his casket at all. He growled, low in his throat

 

“Charles – stop growling at the neighbour, you know it's considered bad manners!”

 

Charles' growl turned into a low whine but he closed the door behind himself and headed for the kitchen. Raven had put the muffins down on the big table and was now rummaging through the stack of notes that were spread out there. Charles huffed. These notes had become part of his life somehow. Single pieces of paper, neatly folded in half. He kept most of them in a metal box, but some lay around for reference.

 

“So the two of you are still at it?” Raven sounded way too amused for Charles. 

 

“If you mean to say that my vampire neighbour continues to bitch and whine about everything I do, then yes.”

 

“So any news or progress in your cute little feud?”

 

Charles gritted his teeth. “There is nothing cute about it.” He rummaged through the notes and fished out a very recent one. “Just look what he did!”

 

 

To Mr. Werewolf at 337 Westchester Road,

 

I simply wanted to test your base instincts, to which you are always so generously referring to. I am glad to see the dog-whistle made you come running. And thank you for your concern, but I did take your advice on the earplugs while using it.

 

Your Vampire Neighbour

 

 

If Charles had thought he could expect sympathy from his sister, he would have to think again. She gave a snort of laughter. “A dog-whistle – oh that IS cute. And I see no mentions of bloodied claws or fangs. You two are still keeping it all civilized, that is - sweet.”

 

“Really Raven, how would you feel if someone suddenly tried to burst your eardrums by means of a dog-whistle?” 

 

“I didn't even know that was possible. But I sure would not come running if I heard one.”

 

“Well... it isn't. But that's not the point really. The point is that he tried to annoy me. And I did not come running – whatever he says. I just went to investigate.“ Though the whistle really had made every hair on his body stand on end. And it had gone on and on and he'd just had to know what it was that he'd kept hearing. Only to find the vampire standing there at the fence with a wide grin, showing sharp fangs, looking smug. He had arched an eyebrow at Charles while he levitated the dog-whistle in the air for Charles to see, spinning it gently. (Unlike Charles the vampire never had tried to hide his ability, but flaunted it whenever he could.)

Charles would have loved to give him a tongue-lashing but all he had been able to do was growl – and then turn his back and stalk away before he did something drastic. Charles took one of the muffins and bit into it, the cinnamon-blueberry flavour barely able to overshadow his annoyance about his neighbour.

 

“Hey, I thought we'd have tea with that!” Raven started the water boiler. “You're usually so mild-mannered. I would have thought you would apologize for disturbing the vampire's sleep and make sure to head out into the forest when you change or just to howl.”

 

“I would have – had he asked nicely. But his first note was so...so rude.”

 

“Not everyone can have your sweet temper.”

 

Charles frowned, not sure if she meant it or was teasing him. Whatever, she only got away with it because she was his sister – and because she turned into a most formidable werewolf with blue-black fur and yellow eyes, looking fierce and intimidating – even to Charles. His own gray-brown wolf-form looked rather boring and not at all scary in comparison.

 

Tea in hand, Raven moved to the kitchen window and peered out. “Did you ever talk to him?”

 

“In person? No! I fear I might try and tear his throat out, if he says any of the things he writes to my face.” Not that Charles hadn't thought about talking to his neighbour. In the first week of him moving in and writing notes, Charles had thought about going over and trying to talk things out. But then one note led to another...

 

“Pity. I mean he looks alright – for a vampire – all tall and lean. Though the black turtle-neck is a bit – much.”

 

“Is he out there?” Charles rushed to the window. Indeed, there was his Vampire Neighbour, wearing black slacks and a black turtle neck. His sister was right, he had to admit that much, the vampire looked handsome. But the chiselled cheekbones, strong jawline and pretty, pretty grey eyes could not distract from the annoying personality. Not even the black fabric encasing the sinewy muscled arms could sway Charles in his opinion one bit. 

 

It all could not be as sweet as the triumph he felt as he watched his neighbour inspect the row of _Coleus canina_ he had planted along his fence to piss Charles off. The plants were all wilting. He was covering his nose with his hand, frowning. Charles knew it wasn't because the vampire picked up the unpleasant smell of the plant but because...

 

The vampire raised his head and glared in their direction. Then his eyes narrowed as he easily spotted Charles at the kitchen window even though there was only a dim light burning inside. Charles couldn't help but smile – smugly.

 

“What have you done now?” Raven asked as on the other side of the fence, the vampire stalked back into the house.

 

Charles turned away from the window to get another muffin. “I might have peed on his Dog's Gone plants.”

 

It took some five minutes before Raven had calmed down enough from laughing, to form a coherent sentence between chuckles again. “Okay... you are... oh my goodness. This is brilliant. But the plants all looked – last I know even werewolf-piss doesn't have such a devastating effect on plants.”

 

“Nope. But it will cover up the smell of vinegar and salt poured over the plants.”

 

During the next hour Charles' and Raven's conversation was interrupted again and again by her sudden bursts of laughter.

 

Xxx

 

The next note came one evening later and managed to wipe the pleased smile from Charles' face. One that he had worn the next day at the sight of the bare earth along the fence where the vampire had dug up all the offending plants.

 

 

To the Werewolf,

 

If you ever dare to step onto my property again I will have some lovely silver bullets waiting for you. And as you might have noticed, I will not need a gun to shoot them at you.

 

Your Vampire Neighbour

 

 

Charles had been stunned at first, then irritated and finally angry.

 

 

Dearest Vampire Neighbour mine,

 

Your silver bullets will not be able to slow me down enough, so you won't miss the taste of my claws.

 

THE Werewolf

 

 

That night there was no full moon, yet Charles made sure he howled his heart out.

 

 

To THE most full of himself little Werewolf,

 

I have to inform you, that on one point the legends are true, I can fly. So please give me the pleasure of coming over and trying to get me. I will enjoy floating out of your reach while you yap like a little puppy and try to snatch at my cape.

 

Your Vampire Neighbour

 

 

To my dress-sense-less Vampire Neighbour,

 

Really, a cape!? How delusional does one have to be to wear a cape? And please, I gladly invite you the next full moon so you can see for yourself how little I am not. Also I am able to jump and knowing the reward will be your flesh between my teeth, it will make me jump very high.

 

THE Werewolf

 

 

To THE Werewolf who seems to suffer from delusions himself,

 

Are you trying to scare me or impress me, little werewolf. Will you be a good boy and jump at my command? Perhaps you can earn some money by performing circus tricks, so you can pay me back for the plants you ruined!

 

Your Vampire Neighbour

 

 

To my poor Vampire Neighbour!

 

Charles didn't write anything more down, just included the money he estimated the plants would have cost. 

 

 

That evening Charles imagined he was chasing his vampire neighbour as he ran in wolf-form through the woods behind the house. As he trotted back to his home, thoroughly exhausted, he still made sure to stop every few paces to sing at the crescent moon, barking a laugh when he imagined the vampire's annoyance at it. Finally back, he still made a detour to circle the vampire's property, as had become a habit, and annoyingly had to find that the man was not home. He hoisted himself up on his hind-legs, putting his front paws on the metal fence and glowered at the empty house for a few moments. 

 

Suddenly, an odd smell reached Charles' sensitive nose. He sniffed the air before he went back on all fours to inspect the ground. Yes, the smell was stronger down here. It was – odd – though Charles couldn't put his paw on what it was he'd scented. The smell reminded him of - Christmas. Finally he gave a mental shrug and padded back to his own house.

 

Xxx

 

The need to run and howl at the moon at night made Charles sleep long into the morning. Luckily he could allot his time as he pleased. He was researching the genetics of were- and other so called supernatural creatures, only sometimes giving a guest lecture on the subject. And even for those – people simply seemed to expect them to happen in the evening or afternoon the earliest, so his late mornings usually were undisturbed. 'Luckily my annoying neighbour is a vampire, or he surely would do something to make sure I can't sleep.'

 

As habit would have it Charles wandered over to the bathroom window while he was brushing his teeth, to take a look at his neighbour's place. The earth along the metal fence was still turned, but surprisingly no fresh plants had been planted – yet. He spotted a strange car in the driveway. Perhaps the vampire had hired a gardener to take care of it. Surely the earth would have to be removed before something else could be planted. Charles wandered back to the washbasin and finished his morning routine. 

 

He wandered down to the kitchen, contemplating if he should check for any new notes from his neighbour before or after having tea, when suddenly he stopped. Something felt off. Charles turned around, trying to sniff the air, but though his sense of smell was better than a normal humans, even in his human form, he couldn't detect anything out of the ordinary. For some reason he remembered the Christmasy incense smell from yesterday, though he couldn't actually smell it now. 

 

It felt as if there was something in the air, something wrong... The small hairs at the back of his neck rose. Charles stepped first in the direction of his kitchen, but then changed his mind mid-step and headed for the front door. He opened it carefully and peered outside. No-one was there, nothing seemed out of place, and yet... Reluctantly, and still barefoot, he stepped out onto the steps of the porch. On its own his gaze drifted over to Westchester Street 339. Carefully he reached out with his mind and found - fury and fear. The feeling of being helpless while the stench of burning flesh filled his nostrils. Blinding light, penetrating past closed eyelids, a voice chanting, fear, mingled with the helpless cry of NO!

 

Charles was sprinting across the yard before it had all even registered, leaping across the metal fence that seemed to hum. But there was no time to wonder or to think. Feet turned to clawed paws, fur burst forth from his skin while flesh and bones moved fluidly, teeth became long, sharp as did his face, his vision shifted, but he didn't stop, couldn't as the desperate cry filled his mind.

 

In! He needed a way to get into the house! The first floor windows were sparse and too narrow. He leapt up, claws scrabbling for purchase on one wooden windowsill. Holding on with one clawed hand he grabbed the metal grilles, felt them vibrate under his touch before he yanked hard and tore them out. Then he pulled himself up and crashed through the window, landing in a shower of wood and glass on the floor. He didn't stop to look around, just followed the cries and the stench that now filled his nostrils. Garlic, incense and melting flesh.

 

He jumped down the stairs, and ran to where the smell was the strongest, all the while the images of red hot pain and despair filled him. He skidded to a halt. The room was empty, except for a huge iron casket. The lid had been pried open and pulled off by means of some sort of hydraulic lever. The smell was strong here...

 

Wildly he looked around. There was a door, closed, he half noted the trail of blood and water on the floor leading there. Fear turned to terror in his mind and Charles leapt, crashing through the door. There was the vampire, on the ground sun was streaming in from a high window, small, but not small enough. The vampire's skin was burning and there was a man, holding a wooden stake and hammer. He had stumbled back, but not far back enough. Charles leapt, jaws snapping at the man's throat. He felt something sharp pierce his body, but the pain barely registered as he shook his head and the man's neck broke with a satisfying crunch.

 

He gave the body another vigorous shake before he let it drop to the ground.

 

The taste of warm blood in his mouth made him throw back his head and howl.

 

Yet he was brought back abruptly by the sense of pain, tugging and clawing at his mind. He whipped his head around and saw the vampire still lying stiffly in the sunlight, eyes closed unable to move while his flesh exposed to the sun slowly burnt away. And there was a lot of it, bare chest and arms, and feet, for he was only wearing trousers. Quickly Charles moved, brought his bulky werewolf-body between the vampire and the sunlight, shielding him. Was it enough? He looked down searchingly over the pale body marred with blisters and smoking wounds. The sickening sizzling sound slowly lessened and stopped though the burning smell still clogged his nose.

 

Still the sense of fear and pain came strongly from the vampire. Charles touched his muzzle to the man's mouth, licked over it in a soothing gesture. Blood. He would need blood. He tried to rub some of the attacker's blood, that still clung to his fur onto the vampire's lips, but the pale mouth didn't move. A soft whine escaped Charles' throat. Carefully he prodded his mind against the vampire's. There was a red haze of crazed anguish clouding every clear thought, still Charles tried to push forward with soothing thoughts. _'I got you. It's alright. I won't let anyone hurt you. You're safe. You'll be alright, everything is going to be alright...'_

 

The sun shining on his pelt felt warm and comforting and Charles allowed himself to close his eyes while he still kept up the steady stream of soothing thoughts, caressing the vampire's mind to make sure he was safe.

 

Xxx

 

_'Erik... my name is Erik.'_

 

Charles jerked his head up reflexively, realizing he nearly had dozed off, standing guard over the vampire, over Erik.

 

 _'We never got the chance to introduce ourselves properly it seems.'_ The mental voice sounded gruff, yet not unpleasant, clearer than he would have thought and yet with a nice warm timbre. _'Strange you can do that – talk in my head – I knew a vampire who could do that once. Though she was nothing like you.'_ There was a puzzling image of a woman or a diamond shaped like a woman, it was hard to tell.

 

_'I'm Charles. And you've got your tricks, and I've got mine. Are you alright?'_

 

_'It hurts. I won't heal, not before sunset when I – revive. But it's better than being turned to ash.'_

 

 _'You'll need blood.'_ It was more statement than question and Charles looked over to the body of the man he had killed – who had tried to kill the vam... Erik. His nose twitched. _'His blood won't be any good by then.'_

 

_'Even if it were I wouldn't want to drink it.'_

 

Charles hesitated. He wasn't sure he wanted to offer, but he couldn't leave Erik hurt like that. _'What about my blood?'_

 

_'A werewolf's? No.'_

 

Charles growled. _'I'm sorry I'm not to your taste, but I would say you can't really be picky about that now.'_

 

_'I can't digest were-blood. It would only make me sick.'_

 

“Oh...I didn't know that.” Startled at the lack of a rebuff Charles spoke out loud. _'Sorry, I said...'_

 

_'I know what you said, I heard you! I told you I can hear you when you are howling at the moon during the day.'_

 

 _'Ah, right. Sorry... I mean...'_ Charles clicked his teeth. Now that was more like the vampire he knew.

 

_'I have blood-conserves in the fridge I can microwave.'_

 

Charles had heard about that dietary possibility which made it a lot more acceptable for vampires to live alongside humans, though it seemed strange. _'I had been wondering – I mean not really, but sometimes you seemed to stay in the whole night. Not that I was... forget it.'_ What the hell was he thinking?

 

There was a moment of silence that stretched a bit too long for Charles' comfort.

 

 _'Who was he?'_ He sent the vague image of the man he found hurting and wanting to kill Erik along, though he was sure he didn't exactly need to.

 

If Erik could have hissed he probably would have. ' _His name was Sebastian Shaw. He is – was hunting Vampires. He nearly got me a while back, when I was still in Europe. I thought I had shaken him off when I was coming to the states.'_

 

_'Clearly not...'_

 

_'He isn't – wasn't like any others who hunt vampires. He – was more obsessed, learning everything he could about those he hunted. He knew – he didn't even have a metal cross for fear I could turn it against him even in my weakened state. Just holy-water, garlic and a wooden stake and hammer.'_

 

_'Garlic, really?'_

 

Now Charles was sure he heard Erik hiss in his mind. _'The stench clogs my senses and stings and burns my eyes and nose.'_

 

Had Charles known about that, he might have planted some garlic himself, right along their shared fence. He must have fantasized a bit too loudly, because Erik's sharp thoughts stabbed at him. _'Don't you dare!'_

 

Charles gave a low growl. _'I won't, as long as you don't put any more Dog's Gone there.'_

 

 _'It seems like a waste of money anyway.'_ The reply was gruff.

 

Again silence stretched between the two. This time though it was Erik who broke it first. _'Don't you need to change back?'_

 

_'If I do, I will be a good deal smaller which will guarantee you another dose of sunburn. Also I would be naked.'_

 

For a moment there was a flash of images coming from Erik's mind, hard to pin down each, but he saw himself through Erik's eyes. Smaller than the other man, blue eyes, pale skin, freckles, an only half buttoned shirt. There was more but it was all over in the blink of an eye. _'I thought werewolves wouldn't mind being naked, furred or clothed.'_

 

Charles detected some resentment in the thought and he growled again. _'I don't mind, but I thought you might mind having me naked on top of you while you are all helpless and in pain.'_

 

There was the distinct feel coming from Erik that he wished himself back inside his casket again. Charles took it as a small triumph.

 

Charles closed his eyes. He wondered how long still till the sun would set. And if the longer it took, the harder it might be for Erik to heal. Could the wounds get infected? He moved his head so his muzzle was pointed down and sniffed. The smell of burnt flesh was slightly nauseating, but there he couldn't make out the sickly-sweet smell of infection or rot. 'Funny,' he thought, 'you would think since Vampires are supposed to be dead, they would smell like a corpse..' His nose brushed against Erik's neck. His skin felt cool, but the smell was clean a bit like fresh laundry yet mixed with... He inhaled again to get a clear scent. Yes, there was a strange warm smell that reminded him of libraries. Dry, warm, papery.

 

_'Are you contemplating ripping my throat out?'_

 

_'No, oh my, no. I'm sorry, I was merely checking. Your wounds don't heal but they aren't deteriorating. Also I wondered how this 'dead and yet not dead to the world' thing works. What changes had happened to your DNA. I wonder if there are similarities between werewolf and vampire DNA. We both share the great healing abilities, acute hearing – I know with me those lie in the wolfish part of the DNA so I can't help wondering what causes it in you. I mean you look human - almost. Or do you really share DNA with a bat, I mean it could be that vampires are really were-bats, that we both share some common origins. Or why would all those stories about vampires feature bats, maybe.... that is, can you turn into a bat?'_

 

_'No.'_

 

_'Pity, but of course through divergent evolution those traits could have gotten lost. It doesn't mean that...'_

 

 _'Charles.'_ The voice in his mind sounded brusque.

 

_'Yes, Erik.'_

 

_'Please shut up.'_

 

Charles instinctively gave a little whine but drew his thoughts back. He contemplated clicking his teeth close to the vampire's ears, to make him aware that he might consider playing nice, since he was at Charles' mercy. Though he refrained from it, pretty sure Erik was very much aware of it and it seemed petty.

 

Charles settled down to wait. The position was not the most comfortable one, braced on front- and hind-legs, making sure to cover Erik's body without touching it, but in his werewolf-form his body didn't tire easily and if Erik didn't want to talk, he would just occupy himself otherwise. He started humming to himself in his mind. He chose something with an easy tune and went from there to some more complicated pieces. He put it down to his good hearing, though he wasn't sure if that was it, but he could remember most tunes he heard.

 

_'I can hear you...'_

 

Charles cracked his eyes open, though he knew the vampire underneath him would still be unmoving with his eyes closed, only his mind active. Charles huffed, annoyed. He could be a bit more gracious about the help Charles was giving him here. He stopped humming though.

 

_'I didn't say I wanted you to stop. Go on... please.'_

 

Charles blinked, puzzled, then slowly closed his eyes again. He lowered his head, so his jaw was resting gingerly on Erik's undamaged forehead and started humming in his mind again, letting the music melt the time away.

 

Xxx

 

Erik listened to the silent music in his head. If he concentrated on it, he was less aware of the burns on his body. The werewolf’s even breaths and beating heart seemed to make a steady metronome for the not-sound in his mind.

 

Then finally the last of the sun was swallowed by the horizon.

 

The muscles in Erik's body tensed up, his lungs filled with air, the pain from the burns intensified. He gasped, his hand grasped for something to support himself with and his fingers found the soft fur of the werewolf on top of him. He gripped it tight while the spasm of waking up to a damaged body wrecked through him.

 

_'Erik?!'_

 

He moaned in pain, though to his ears it sounded more like a pitiful whimper. Damn, he needed – blood. The smell of Shaw's dead body had turned rotten, the blood of the dead no longer holding life. And the werewolf - remaining so close to the musky smell of the hairy beast for hours, he was no longer aware of the strange of the blood coursing through the huge body. But more aware of how large the werewolf was, much larger than him and that the fur was not coarse as he had thought it would be, but soft and warm.

 

“Erik?” The voice coming from the muzzle was distorted compared to the one that kept talking to him in his head, with a hint of a bark to it. Or did that have something to do with the anxious sniffing at his face and hair – and then a huge wet tongue licked over his forehead and there was a soft whine. 

 

 _'Stop! STOP!'_ “Stop! Get off me! Help me up. I need – shit this hurts – I need blood.”

 

The beast moved off him or at least tried to until he couldn't because Erik still had a tight grip on the fur at waist height. 

 

_'Erik...'_

 

Erik let go before Charles could comment. The room was blissfully dark, only pale light coming in from the small window now. But he was sure Charles didn't need more to see by than himself. He tried to sit up, and bit his lip to not scream at the pain. It was dizzying, now that he was moving. It felt like the marred flesh started to burn afresh.

 

 _'Let me help you.'_ Charles reached gingerly out for him and tried to pull him up, the sharp claws from his paws scratching along Erik's skin. He hissed. It was too much to the pain he was already in. 

 

 _'Sorry! - Okay, just a moment.'_ Charles drew back and Erik could watch through eyes half closed in pain, as the furry shape, easily two heads taller than him, blurred and shrank. There was the sound of bones crunching, the wet sound of flesh moving and then Charles stood there, hair ruffled, skin pale except for a smudge of dried blood across his mouth. He was naked. Erik's gaze slid down and – his eyes widened. 

 

Charles frowned and looked down to where Erik's gaze had fixed itself. “Fuck. I didn't notice. You were projecting your pain so I thought it was all you.” Gingerly he touched the wooden stake partly in-bedded at his side below the ribs. “I must have healed around it. Damn it. I'll have to pull it out later. First lets get you those blood-conserves.”

 

Charles bent down to one knee, moving a bit gingerly so to not jar the stake logged in his flesh too much. Erik wondered if it didn't hurt or Charles was a lot tougher than he seemed. Perhaps it had not just been big words when he had threatened to come at Erik even when he would be shooting silver bullets. He let himself be helped up. 

 

With Erik bracing himself on Charles' warm shoulder, they moved slowly out of the room and towards the kitchen, where Erik sank down boneless onto one of the dark wooden chairs. “The blood is in the fridge. There is a jar for heating it already in the microwave. And everything is set to the right setting – just press start.”

 

Charles moved efficiently, though he let out a whistle as he opened the fridge. Erik prided himself on keeping it very well stocked. “Planning a party?” He took out a bag of blood and poured the contents into the jar before putting it into the microwave.

 

“No.” Erik hissed, not only from the pain. “But it is easier to drink these than ask for willing donors.”

 

“Aren't there people selling their blood like – you know – prostitutes.”

 

“Yes. And to find one who isn't sick or taking drugs of some kind is rather hard. And then there are the creepy ones, who want you to turn them...” Truth was, he had a handful of acceptable donors whom he visited. But he couldn't drain them too much. He had to be careful how much he drank and in what intervals, giving them time to regain their strength. It was easier to quench his thirst with the blood filled up in plastic, even if it lacked a certain style.

 

“Okay, ready. Should I pour this in a cup for you or...?”

 

“No just bring it here.” Erik’s eyes fixed on the heated red liquid in the glass jar. His nostrils flared as he took in the potent coppery smell and he wondered again if it was because of his other ability he was so aware of the metal in the blood or if every vampire smelled it the same. Charles put the jar in his outstretched hands and kept a light hold on it as Erik lifted it to his lips and drank. It was like a warm soothing balm running down his throat, spreading warmth through his body and he could feel the pain from the wounds slowly melt away. As he put the jar down there was still some blood left in it. Erik was aware that Charles was watching him with great attention, making him oddly self-conscious, though Charles was the one who should feel exposed, standing naked in a stranger's kitchen.

 

Erik pushed that thought aside and dipped his fingers into the blood, letting it drip on his burnt skin. It sizzled gently before the wound closed and was replaced by soft fresh skin. He did so with all the bigger burnmarks that did not heal on their own.

 

As he looked up Charles' fingers were close to his face, and Erik moved back, noting the blood Charles must have scooped up from the jar, now dripping from his fingers. “There is one on your face that still hasn't healed yet.”

 

Slowly Erik allowed himself to relax. “Go on then,” he bit out gruffly, he looked aside as Charles' fingers nearly touched his face. Then he felt the sticky wet liquid touch his face and the last of the pain fade away.

 

Erik grabbed the jar in one hand and let the last of the blood drip into his mouth. No sense in wasting it – and he felt like he needed every bit of strength after the day he'd had. The day Shaw died. Not Erik. Shaw was dead. It seemed unreal.

 

Charles still stayed close. “Do you need help? With the body downstairs I mean.”

 

Erik hesitated a moment. He needed to dispose of Shaw's body. Even though killing vampires was illegal without a sort of warrant – which was only issued when a vampire was found guilty of killing humans - judges and juries were known to be a bit picky when it came to ruling in a vampire's favour even when he killed a human in self-defence. But he would not bury the body anywhere close to his home. “No. I will call a friend who will help with that.” He was sure Azazel would want to see with his own eyes that one of the greatest threats to all vampires was – gone. Like a puff of smoke. He might appreciate that and would gladly help. For a moment he wondered what Charles would make of the man who could disappear in a cloud of smoke like legends said – and appear at another location – on the other side of the globe if he wanted to. Charles seemed incredibly curious. Wasn't that more for cats than werewolves.

 

“Oh. Alright.”

 

Curious and shameless. Now that Erik felt more like himself again, he took his time to look. He had known his next-door neighbour was shorter than him in his human form. But with broad shoulders, nice muscled arms, lots of freckles littering his chest and – Erik winced inwardly as his gaze stopped at the stake still protruding from Charles' side. The stake that had been meant for him. Even if Charles seemed rather not bothered by it. “Do you need help with that?” He reached out for it but didn't dare touch.

 

Charles sucked at his lower lip, the gesture making him look rather young and vulnerable. “Well, if I pull it out myself I probably will only do more damage – and the longer I wait.” It sounded like he still had to convince himself. “Okay – yes please.”

 

Erik stood up. Charles shifted slightly from one foot to the other, appearing suddenly nervous. “You can't run around with that lodged in you all the time, so best get it over with, yes.”

 

“Yes. Sure.” Still he watched warily as Erik's long fingers wrapped around the piece of wood that stuck out from his flesh. His other hand touched Charles, beside the stake, for leverage. Was it only his imagination or did the werewolf's body feel warmer than a humans?

 

Charles took a deep breath and put his own hands against Erik's shoulder, out of the way. They felt hot against his skin. The fingers were flexing slightly, distracting Erik.

 

“So do you use your telepathy to influence people to give you money or do you actually have a job of sorts?”

 

Charles looked up sharply, his blue eyes lighting up with righteous anger. “What? No! I keep well out of people's heads. Just because I can do it doesn't mean...”

 

Erik pulled. Charles gave a gasp of pain, and swayed, his grip on Erik's shoulder tightening to an almost painful level. “Fuck you, you did that on purpose.”

 

“Did what?” Erik couldn't help sound smug, though he didn't move away yet but tried to steady the werewolf while warm blood from the fresh wound ran over his hand. “Should we bind that?”

 

“No....no it will be alright soon. Just, could you take a look if there isn't a piece of the tip left inside.”

 

With the flick of a hand Erik turned on the light-switch using his power. He examined the stake for any broken off pieces and though it looked intact he took a moment to examine the wound itself. He could almost watch it heal, the flesh knitting itself together. The smell of werewolf blood filled his kitchen. It was sharper than that of humans, though he could make out the same coppery component. Now that he had the leisure to examine it, he would have said the smell reminded him of ground nutmeg. Which wasn't that bad – tolerable. “Looks alright. You seem to heal nicely.”

 

Erik straightened up, realising Charles was still holding on to his own naked shoulder. Charles' pupils had shrunk, leaving pools of intense blue behind, like the sky on a sunny day, as Erik remembered. Also you could see where the collars of his shirts usually ended. The skin was darker there, though now his whole innocent young farmboy appearance was messed up by the dried blood on his face. Erik reached out to gently rub the dried blood from Charles' mouth with his fingers, ending up smearing Charles' own blood on his already red lips instead.

 

“Sorry, I - you look a mess.” Erik quickly stepped back.

 

Charles' confused gaze followed him, but he let his hand slip from Erik's shoulder. “Look who's talking. You've got blood smeared all over your mouth too.”

 

Erik wanted to reach up to wipe it off but then thought better of it, remembering the werewolf-blood still all over his hand. He didn't need to get some of that into his mouth and then be sick from it.

 

“Alright, we are both in dire need of a shower.”

 

For a moment Charles gaped at Erik, his cheeks darkening. “Are you of – ah, yes, no, yes...” Then he shook his head. Erik tried not to grin or laugh. Had the werewolf just really misunderstood his intentions?

 

“Shower, I leave you to it then. You are alright now, right. So, I guess...” Charles stood there for a moment like he wanted to say something more, but then he just raised his hand for a short wave. “See you then.” 

 

“Yes...see you.”

 

Charles gave a curt nod and turned around to leave.

 

Erik's gaze was drawn down and then he was very hard pushed not to walk after Charles and look at him leaving some more. 'Damn naked werewolf...' 

 

Erik stood there for a few minutes more after Charles had left, staring into empty space. Then he huffed and looked around. He had no time to lose. There was a lot to do this night – bodies to bury, his resting place to be repaired … 

 

Charles...

 

He could think about his neighbour later!

 

tbc


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How does being safed by his annoying werewolf neighbour affect the undead life of one Erik Lehnsherr? And why is said werewolf neighbour naked, while carrying on a neighbourly chat at the fence?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fic has fanart! I was totally stunned to find the talented palalife felt inspired and posted this wonderful comic-strip. If you haven't seen it already, go, look! Even Erik's house is the unholy purple colour as described!  
> http://palalife.tumblr.com/post/67927831019/dear-neighbour-mine-by-issabella-comic-read-from
> 
> As always a big squishy hug of thanks goes to [Lonelyparts](../../../users/lonelyparts/pseuds/lonelyparts) who betad this chapter - and waits so patiently for me to continue.
> 
> Last but not least, thank you all for the kudos, bookmarks and comments. *_* It's lovely to see the how much this fic is liked. And at the same time I need to apologise for the long wait, the fic grew and grew a bit difficult at that. But instead of just two chapters there will be three. Yet you wont have to wait for chapter three much longer, cause it's already in the claws of my beta ;)

 

Charles didn't hear from Erik the next night, nor the one after that. At first he figured Erik simply must be busy with the dead body, cleaning up the mess Charles had made by killing Shaw (why hadn't he complained about that yet?) and making the vampire hunter's car - disappear. Charles was sure he hadn't heard Erik driving it away. Not that he had his neighbour's house under constant surveillance. That would be weird. But he was of course concerned and when he walked by a window that overlooked the adjoining property, he naturally would take a look. It would be weird to avert his gaze.

 

Still he couldn't shake that feeling of worry. He contemplated sending his thoughts out to the vampire the next morning, to make sure – to let him know – but then he would probably find that intrusive. So he settled for just scanning the house and its surroundings for any other presence now and then. 

 

When he'd received no note or word from Erik by the third night, he decided to take matters into his own hands. It took a bit longer to write this note.

 

 

Dear Vampire Neighbour who I now know is named Erik,

 

I have to confess to having destroyed one of your first floor windows. I hope the damage isn't too bad, though I did tear out the metal grate. 

 

Your neighbour Charles.

 

 

Charles,

 

Thank you for letting me know about that window – even though I had noticed and figured what had happened to it already. You could have used the door you know. Shaw had already broken the lock as he entered. But I guess werewolves prefer a more dramatic entrance.

 

Erik

 

 

Charles at first was glad about the reply, then frowned. Addressing him like that . With only his name written on the top of the note, looked – wrong. It lacked something. It should be personal but seemed void , like it could be anyone's name.

 

In the end Charles shook his head at his own strange thoughts on the matter, yet it took him even more time and a lot of tries, to form a proper reply.

 

~~Dear Erik~~

 

~~Erik~~

 

~~To my Vampire Neighbour Erik~~

 

~~To my dear neighbour~~

 

~~To Erik~~

 

~~My friend~~

 

Erik,

 

I didn't take the time to check. Sorry that my mind was a little overwhelmed with what I felt from you. I'll pay for the window.

 

Your neighbour Charles

 

PS: I will try and time my next dramatic entrance better, so you can fully appreciate it.

 

xxx

 

Erik stared at the note. He'd left it on his kitchen table for three nights now. He hadn't meant for it to come across as if he wanted Charles' money for the repairs to undo the damage Charles had inflicted while coming to rescue him. Did Charles really think that was all he'd had in mind. He simply had wanted to – pick up where they left off. Okay, not exactly there, but in a way – and it had taken him some days to figure this out – he had enjoyed the verbal jabs they had exchanged. So he wanted that back, just without the threats of silver bullets and howling at the moon. Speaking of which, he hadn't heard any howling coming from Charles' place in the last days. Not even a tiny bark. It was almost worrying.

 

His eyes fell on the dog-whistle, lying at the ready on the windowsill. "It floated up, prodded gently by Erik with only a waggle of his finger to focus his powers." Then it sank down again.

 

Though he would appreciate a dramatic entrance from Charles – just so he could tease him about it – in a friendly manner. Perhaps he could go with that. 

 

Yet he hadn't even thanked Charles for saving him that day.

 

He probably couldn't be blamed for not doing so right away. All he'd been able to think of then was the blood he needed and how it would soothe the burning pain. 

Yet days had passed already. But how did one thank his werewolf neighbour for saving one's life?

Walking over and knocking on Charles' door were simple enough, but then – how odd would it be to simply stand there and say 'thank you'? Would Charles expect a gift? What to give a werewolf? Dog-biscuits? For a moment Erik grinned as he remembered how Charles looked when angry, the snarl, the way his nose wrinkled, the blue eyes that seemed to turn glittery and hard like some blue gem.

But then this wasn't exactly the effect he wanted.

Of course, he could still write a note.

 

'Right, a note. - Thank you for saving my life.' That completely lacked everything he wanted to convey. 

 

Erik sat down and impatiently drummed his fingers on the dark wood table, looking at the blank sheet of paper he had prepared for his reply. He had written so many notes before and each had come easy, only requiring a few moments to put together, yet now he wasn't even sure what he wanted to say. 

  
He simply had let his anger guided him, but now without it he was lost. Yet he had to admit to himself, that he had – maybe - handled the whole situation badly from the start. He should have talked to Charles, not just sent him angry notes. Maybe they could have – figured something out.

 

Yet it hadn't stopped Charles from leaping right into danger for him. He couldn't even have known what was happening – so why? Charles could have gotten hurt – hurt worse than he had gotten anyway. As far as Erik knew, Shaw had not stopped at killing vampires. When Azazel had helped dispose of the body, they'd checked Shaw's car and they found guns loaded with silver bullets in the trunk. What if Shaw had brought those, and fired them at Charles...

 

Erik hissed angrily.

 

He had to take a deep calming breath, allowing for his fangs to retract.

 

Perhaps he should just go over to Charles' house and talk to him. Start a normal conversation.

 

Resolutely Erik stood up and made it to the door, before he returned to the kitchen and looked at the clock hanging there. It was midnight. 

Maybe he should just check Charles' house first, to see if any light was burning inside. A bit more reluctantly Erik went out the backdoor into the garden and walked along their shared fence. All the windows at 337 Westchester Road looked dark. 

 

He could try again tomorrow. He could wait another day. He didn't want to wait. Erik crossed his arms in front of his chest and frowned at his neighbour's house.

 

Suddenly there was a rustling sound coming from the direction of the woods. And it was closing in quickly. Instinctively Erik used his powers to levitate himself up into the air. He grasped for the iron fence underneath him. The metal spikes felt reassuring, vibrating gently in his grasp, ready to bend and warp themselves at his will. Whoever was out to get him this time was in for a nasty surprise.

 

_'Hello, Erik!'_ The voice sounded in his head at the same moment as a gray-brown wolf trotted out from the bushes forming a natural border between Charles' garden and the forest. The metal fence gave a little shriek as Erik's grip on it tightened a bit too much. He made sure he floated down gracefully to land on his side of the fence. The wolf had sat down, waiting attentively. “Good Night - Charles.” Erik found it odd, how the wolf was a lot smaller than the fierce werewolf Charles had turned into.

 

The wolf tilted his head to one side and Erik realised that the eyes were the same beautiful sky-blue as in his human form. Erik leant over the fence, just to take a closer look and reached out a hand to the wolf, who got up and trotted over, touching his muzzle to Erik's hand, before he suddenly hoisted himself up on his hind-legs, putting his front paws on the fence for balance. Erik let his hand drop onto the wolf's body, ruffling through its coat, feeling the soft fur glide through his fingers again.

 

_'Oh yes, right there, scratch me, harder...'_

 

Startled Erik withdrew his hand. He frowned at Charles. Seeing him like this, one could nearly forget who he was.

 

Charles gave a soft whine, then suddenly his body shifted, twisted and he stood there in his human form, hands still gripping the fence, half leaning on it – completely naked.

 

Involuntarily Erik's gaze slid down and this time there was no wooden stake to divert his attention. He raised an eyebrow. 'Red hair...who would have thought. But then, the freckles should have been a hint...'

 

There was a grin playing around Charles' mouth. “So, how are you? I hardly see or hear from you these days.”

 

“Good, thank you for asking.” 'Thank you for saving me.' But that didn't sound right, not just like that, thrown into a trivial conversation. “You seem fine too – and naked again.” He hadn't meant to mention it. It wasn't that big of a deal – except that it was. In a distracting way. Not that he was interested in what Charles looked like naked, he was simply following a natural instinct to observe. 'I'm just curious!'

 

Charles flinched and rubbed his temple. “Curious about what? Sorry I didn't mean to hear that, but you were thinking rather loudly.”

 

Erik straightened and quickly thought of his metal casket, the heavy lid dropping with a loud bang to keep his thoughts in.

 

Charles raised an eyebrow. “Okay...” 

 

So maybe that had come across as rude. “Sorry.”

 

Charles shrugged. “I changed since you didn't want to give me a proper scratching and I thought you might prefer to talk to me the regular way.”

 

“Hm. Yes.” Erik's gaze wavered between Charles' eyes and his lips. They were interesting to look at too. And he could keep his focus on Charles' face. Though he really should focus on what to say. He still hadn't figured that out. 

 

“So... I see the cape is not necessary for you to fly.”

 

“What?”

 

“You wrote you had a cape – for flying.”

 

“Yes. I only use it to obscure my shape when flying. People don't react all that well when they see a human shape floating through the air at night.”

 

Charles' lips twitched in an attempt to not show his obvious amusement. (It was a good thing after all, that Erik was observing him so closely.) “So you really weren't joking about the cape?! Okay. Well the flying seems rather neat anyhow.”

 

Erik frowned. “It's useful...” Though why he should defend his choice of wardrobe to someone who was prancing around naked, he really didn't know. Again a moment of awkward silence fell between them. How did you detour from capes and flying to saying how grateful you were to be saved from a vampire hunter?

 

“So, everything's alright, I mean, how is your daytime rest? I hope you're not... that is, I hope there wasn't any damage to your casket. Do you have to sleep in a casket?” 

 

Erik pressed his lips together to keep his fangs from protruding. Charles' odd string of questions might've brought them back on topic but he didn't really want to go into details. “Yes.”

 

One of Charles' eyebrows crept up. “Yes to what?”

 

Part of Erik wanted to tell the werewolf that it was none of his business, then turn around and leave. The other part wanted to stay – and talk – and look. He allowed himself a moment until his fangs were under control again before he spoke. “It's safest in the casket.” It still came out gruff. “And I can feel the metal around me, it feels comfortable, and safe.” Though it hadn't been enough, not when his powers were weakened during the day and that made it even impossible for him to ensure the lid would stay firmly shut. 

 

Either Charles didn't think it through or decided not to point out the weak point in Erik's argument. He simply nodded. “I see. That's also why you changed the fence to this?” He patted the metal with one hand.

 

“Yes. I thought it might come in handy to have a built in arsenal. Not that it made any difference.” He stopped, not sure why he should say more – or anything about this at all.

 

Charles reached across the fence to put his hand on Erik's arm. “I guess it took this Shaw quite a while to get the casket open though. If it had been made of any other material, he might have gotten to you sooner and I might have been too late.”

 

There, that had to be the perfect opening. Erik huffed, he had to look away from Charles' blue eyes for a moment, to collect his thoughts. Though looking down was not a good idea he found as he realized that he was staring at Charles' cock. He quickly looked to the side, where Charles' hand was resting at his arm.

 

“Sorry, I didn't mean to intrude.” Charles drew his hand back, probably misreading Erik's gaze. 

 

“You live here alone, right.”

 

Charles looked surprised at the sudden change in topic.

 

“It's just I always thought werewolves would be more like pack animals.” 'I just called him an animal to his face. Great way to go about thanking him for the rescue.' “...or pack – people.” he added lamely.

 

Charles, though still hard pressed to follow the train of thought, chuckled. “Yes, I guess we are. But ...” Charles shrugged. “I wouldn't mind belonging to a pack, to not be alone. Not that I mind the solitude that much, but, well being a gay telepathic werewolf can put a damper on things.”

 

Erik absorbed that new fact with interest – not that it mattered, he thought to himself. “I see. What about the werewolf that comes to visit? Not that I – I just noticed.”

 

“Raven? She is my sister. She used to live here with me, but she followed her own path, so to speak. Though she comes to visit now and then. Are you worried two werewolves might wreak more havoc than one?”

 

What could he possibly say to that. “I - probably took the notes too far. About the silver bullets, that was, I wouldn't... I didn't mean it.” He finished lamely, yet again he seemed to surprise Charles with what he said.

 

“I suppose we got off on the wrong foot, though, I don't know, I sort of missed these notes the last days.”

 

“You missed me complaining.”

 

“No, not the complaining – just, the notes.”

 

Erik shook his head. 

 

“It's alright. Just – why don't we start this over.” With that Charles held out his hand. “Hello, I am your werewolf neighbour, Charles Xavier.”

 

Erik looked at the offered hand then took it. The grip was firm, the skin warm to touch. He briefly wondered what Charles would feel, as he gripped his hand. “Erik Lehnsherr, vampire. I hope I will be seeing more of you.”

 

Charles laughed, and glanced down at himself. “More than you already have?”

Well if you like.”

 

Startled Erik stared at Charles. “I only meant - ” Was the werewolf flirting with him? “I wanted to say, that I actually enjoyed your company, despite the circumstances.” There, he got that out right – right?

 

Charles studied Erik's serious expression, before a small smirk unfurled on his lips. “That is very nice of you to say. So whenever you want some company – during the day, just give me a shout.” After a moment Charles raised his other hand, touching his fingers to his forehead to clarify what he meant.

 

Erik hadn't thought about that. Though the idea was – nice. Over the years he had perfected a meditative state where he would concentrate on the metal around him to make the long hours of daylight pass. But after Shaw's attack he had not been able to find that peace, always alert for signs that someone approaching. “As long as you don't howl in your thoughts.” "The very instant the words left his mouth, Erik wanted to take them back." Why had he said that now, this conversation had been going so well.

 

But Charles didn't seem to be taken aback. “You did like it when I sang though.”

 

“That's...” He stopped himself before he could insult Charles any further. “Yes.”

 

Charles licked his lips. It made Erik remember the werewolf nuzzling and licking his face as if he had been concerned. “I can also keep holding your hand, if you like.”Charles squeezed his hand a little. 

 

Erik couldn't help a quick look down, despite the fact that he was still very clearly able to feel Charles' hand in his and knew that what Charles said was correct. He still hadn't let go of Charles' hand! Erik pulled back his hand, deliberately and slowly, with a gruff: “No, that won't be necessary.” Though he wouldn't mind. He also found the idea of Charles by his side during the day not in the least unsettling. He could imagine him curled up beside him in wolf-form – or naked. Now where were his thoughts going? He needed – a little space to think. Somewhere where overexcited thoughts could not be overheard. Where there was no naked werewolf neighbour standing in front of him, making his eyes – and thoughts – wander in odd directions. Despite the fact that he was standing there, looking comfortable, just as he would wearing jeans and a t-shirt. “I'll be going then – but we'll see each other around.”

 

“Have a pleasant night, Erik.”

 

“Charles...” He teetered for a moment, wanting to say more. “Please feel free to howl at the moon, you don't need to restrain yourself for my sake.” Erik stepped back and turned around, not waiting for a reaction he headed back into the house.

 

 

xxx

 

Charles poured a dash of rum into his tea. He felt pleased. While he had hoped to pick up their exchange of notes again, he had gotten a whole conversation with Erik instead. And it had nothing to do with the fact that he had noticed Erik looking at– and thinking of – certain things. Charles hung his head. Okay, lying to oneself was rather senseless. But after rescuing Erik and spending some time communicating with him mind to mind he found the vampire was not the monstrous and insensitive neighbour he had thought him to be. Not to mention his beautiful grey eyes, and his long fingers. He remembered how Erik had gripped his fur, and later touched him as he pulled out the stake. It had been painful, but Charles had been more aware of the cold fingers pressed against his skin. They had felt soothing. Then there was the sinfully small waist, the arms... Charles was sure, if he were in wolf-form he would be wagging his tail. Oh boy, he had it bad.

 

He should just go to bed, pull the blanket over his head and try to sleep off the horny thoughts. Instead he wandered over to the window, hoping to get a glimpse of his neighbour. Erik had been able to undo some damage done to his home already. The door was back in its hinges, the metal grate Charles had torn out when he came to Erik's help had been set back in place, though the window behind itwas still broken. Erik probably didn't care much about the cold air coming in. Could he feel cold? Or warmth? Erik's own hand been so cool to touch - not unpleasantly so. The grip firm, long fingers... Was he obsessing over Erik's hands now?

 

He turned away from the window, took a single step, then rolled up on the balls of the feet before he pivoted around and made it back to the window again.

 

So where would Erik stand on having Charles draped over him?

 

Thankfully some light coming through one of the narrow windows from downstairs distracted Charles. What was Erik up to all night anyway? Charles would have to ask – and ask nicely. Since Erik really was making an effort. And the mix of dark scowls, rude comments, unintentionally projected lustful thoughts and gruff friendliness was oddly appealing. Including his little fangs that seemed to have a mind of their own. Well to Charles they seemed little, compared to the sharp-toothed madness that made up a werewolf's jaw.

 

Charles put his hands on the windowsill.

 

Perhaps he could do something for Erik that would make him smile, adorable teeth and all. His eyes fell on the stretch of ground on Erik's side of the fence that once had held very offending plants. Perhaps he could – but that would have to wait until the morning, Charles yawned.

 

Even if that meant Erik would not see him shirtless, labouring in his garden.

 

Charles shook his head at that thought. He really needed to get to bed.

 

 

xxx

 

Trapped. He couldn't move. He was aware of his body, but in a dislocated, distant way. It didn't lessen the urge to move. He couldn't take a deep breath to calm himself, he couldn't make a sound, all that he had left was his mind – and his powers. Strong enough to manipulate metal and magnetic fields to lift himself up, it too was now dulled. But he could reach out with it, using it like a lifeline to connect himself with his surroundings. Slowly he felt along his casket, the metal form surrounding him familiar - and it should have been comforting, but he only grew aware of where Shaw had shoved the crowbar in enough to insert the hydraulic jack to push the casket up and aside, exposing Erik's helpless body – no!

 

Shaw was dead.

 

Thanks to his werewolf neighbour... Charles.

 

He could think of Charles, not Shaw... there had been times in Europe when Erik had had to be constantly on the move to evade the man, all the while hearing of other vampires he had located and killed while they were trapped, unmoving by daylight but forced to witness their demise fully conscious – unable to do anything. He remembered it.

 

'No! He is dead and deserves no more thought!'

 

But there might be others.

 

'No!' He wanted to jump up – scream, tear at the unseen enemies...

 

Around him the metal was vibrating softly.

 

 

_'Erik?'_

 

It was like he could see blue eyes, feel a warm hand touching him - Charles – Charles' calming voice was in his head. 

 

_'I am terribly sorry for intruding, but is everything alright? Your fence is – vibrating. Or was.'_

 

Charles' hand caressed over the metal fence. Erik wasn't sure if he could really feel it through the metal or was just imagining it – maybe Charles was projecting that image along with his words?

 

_'Erik?'_ This time the mental nudge was more probing, flavoured with alertness.

 

_'Yes... I hear you.'_

 

_'Oh good, I thought I'd have to come storming over to throw myself on top of you again.'_

 

Joking, surely he was just joking. _'No!'_ It was hard to keep the images that came to his mind at bay, lest Charles would see them. Charles on top of Erik in various states of undress even in werewolf form, and then changing, wearing nothing when the sun set... ' _No!'_

 

_'...all right, I only meant it as a joke. I'm sorry I disturbed your... rest.'_ Maybe Charles sounded a little rebuffed. Not what Erik wanted either.

 

_'Thank you for checking in on me.'_

 

_'Oh...'_ A moment of nothing and Erik worried if Charles had already drawn back. ' _You're welcome.'_

 

Erik felt relieved, yet only for a bit. He needed him to stay. _'What are you doing?'_

 

_'Nothing...'_ The one word sounded suspiciously innocent.

 

_'Charles! What are you doing there at my fence?'_

 

There was a sort of mental sigh, but Erik was sure he could see Charles' shoulders and chest heave with it. Naked shoulders and chest. Surely this was not Charles projecting but Erik's own mind trapped in his dead body playing tricks. There were stories of very old vampires finally going mad after all. Maybe he was getting there just a little sooner, maybe Charles was driving him mad.

_'Digging.'_

 

For a moment Erik thought about Charles digging dog-style in wolf – form, tongue lolling while he burrowed into the soft earth with his front paws. Then suddenly there was the image of a shovel in Charles' hand and him standing – on Erik's side of the fence.

 

_'Why are you digging in MY garden?'_

 

_'Since I gathered we are past the quarrelling neighbour stage, I figured I would try and undo what I did to your garden as best as I can – hoping you won't plant something insulting again. Actually I did some research and found some lovely plants that could go here instead. They are called moonflowers and bloom at night.'_

 

Of course a werewolf would pick something called moonflowers. He would probably stand at the fence whenever they were blooming and howling at them too...standing close enough so Erik could reach across the fence and drag him closer, sealing those sinful red lips with a kiss. Erik quickly back-paddled from that image, fearing the worst – that Charles might have picked up on it too. _'That sounds – nice.'_

 

_'Yes.'_

 

Did Charles sound smug in his mind – and if he did, was it because he had read his thoughts or because Erik had – more or less – agreed to the flower-planting plan?

 

_'So what do you do every day when you aren't digging up my garden?'_ That seemed a safe enough topic.

 

_'Genetics. My research focuses on werewolves but also all other so called supernatural beings. I mostly publish papers in my field, sometimes giving guest lectures at the university. Actually I would love to be able to teach more, but humans get rather edgy around me when the full moon gets closer.'_ Typical _._ Yet Charles seemed more amused than offended.

 

_'You're better off not having to worry about students wanting to conduct experiments of their own concerning werewolves and silver poisoning for example.'_

 

_'Erik, not everyone is out to kill us.'_

 

Erik projected something that he hoped would be perceived as an eye roll. 

 

_'You're good at this... Though it's hardly substantial enough for an argument. So my last sentence remains undisputed. I will actually go as far as to say, some humans make better friends than some werewolves.'_

 

That got a mental hiss from Erik and Charles chuckled. _'Since I rendered you speechless with my argument, perhaps we should continue this when I can enjoy your great debating skills live. Perhaps I am missing the point you want to make.'_

 

_'This is not over!'_ But Erik was not going to press it - for now, especially since half the time he would have to worry about Charles picking up on his other thoughts – especially now that he'd found Charles by use of his own powers, touching the metal buttons and zipper of Charles' jeans and beltbuckle. If he could have moved he would have licked his lips at the possibilities.

 

_'I hope it isn't.'_ Surely werewolves didn't purr, but there was something very like it to Charles' thoughts.

 

Had he heard, did he know? 'Damn it.' Erik quickly tried to think of nothing but the metal surrounding him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, it's done! This is the last chapter, I just add a little extra I was inspired to in another chapter.
> 
> Betad by [Lonelyparts](../../../users/lonelyparts/pseuds/lonelyparts), who is very patient with me, despite me making the same mistakes again and again. 
> 
> Thank you all for the feedback given in all forms!  
> xxx

 

What is the correct time for a nightly call on your neighbour?

 

In case of vampires, anywhere between an hour after sundown and an hour before sunrise would be considered acceptable. But what if your neighbour was a werewolf? It wasn't the full moon yet, so at least Erik didn't have to worry about that, though when the moon was full Charles usually wasn't home anyway. Instead his howling came from all sorts of places, starting in the garden followed by the woods, then the back of Erik's house, the front of Erik's house, the other side of Erik's house where the property wasdominated by a large greenhouse, the pride and joy of an old lady living there.

 

But other than that, Charles seemed to keep no strict schedule. He was up during the day, though usually not early in the morning and while he seemed to be awake for a good deal of the night, he did go to sleep when it was still dark outside. The hours themselves varied.

 

So it was some two hours after sundown that Erik stood by the mailbox next to the shrubbery flanked little gate. This was as close as he had gotten to Charles' place - up until now. Gingerly he pushed at the gate and it swung back without resistance – as if Charles wouldn't mind just anyone strolling into his territory. Scowling, Erik walked along the stone-paved path then took the stairs up to the door. There was a knocker in the shape of a wolfs-head, as well as a much more mundane looking button for a doorbell beside the door.

 

Before Erik decided which to use, he tugged at his shirt-sleeves, once more contemplating if he'd rather pull them down or keep them rolled up. He had foregone his favoured turtlenecks for a black shirt with pale mother-of pearl buttons. It was _not_ because he hoped the pale buttons might catch Charles' interest, reminding him of the moon – _nor_ was it because a buttoned shirt would be easier to tear off – something he had _not_ been fantasizing about while confined to his casket for the day. It was simply because he _felt_ like wearing the black shirt tonight.

 

'Stupid werewolf.' 

 

An angry flick of the wrist let the door-knocker swing up and bang hard against the unsuspecting wood underneath. The sound was surely loud enough to be heard throughout the whole house, especially when one had sensitive werewolf-ears.

 

It didn't take long and then the door was pulled open – though not by Charles.

 

A blonde woman stood there, wearing a short blue dress. It was the same woman he had seen here before, the one Charles had told him, was his sister. Though he didn't see much resemblance between them. Perhaps he had gotten it wrong and Charles really only meant sister in a 'fellow-werewolf' sense. Erik gritted his teeth. “I didn't know Charles had company. I'll come back another time.” Without waiting for a reply he turned and began walking away.

 

“No, wait, you're his neighbour! Why don't you...”

 

“Erik!”

 

Charles voice stopped him and, already halfway down the steps, he turned around again. His werewolf-neighbour had come up behind the 'sister', smiling. Happy to see him. Erik took a step up, then another, until he was standing in front of the entrance once more.

 

“Come in. I told you about my sister, Raven.”

 

Said sister – and this time Erik was sure it really was meant in a sibling kind of way, stepped back with a grin on her face, allowing him to walk in.

 

Erik gave her a curt nod. Even if she really was simply Charles' relative and seemed friendly, having to interact with anyone but Charles tonight was not what he had planned on. It left him feeling annoyed. If it showed, it didn't seem to discourage her though.

 

“Nice to meet you, Erik. My brother tells me you have buried your differences and become friends. So is this a friendly neighbourly call, or have you come to borrow some sugar – though not really sugar, I guess.”

 

Erik replied tersely.“I just came to finish our discussion.” And maybe to have his shirt ripped off – if he was lucky. Which clearly he wasn't. “I can come back later.”

 

“Nonsense.” Raven closed the door behind him. “We were just having tea. Do you want some?” She headed for a room to the right, the kitchen, as far as Erik's observations went. - It wasn't his fault Charles didn't bother using his curtains. 

 

“That is... Charles, do vampires drink tea?” Raven called from the kitchen as an afterthought. 

 

Charles hadn't taken his eyes off Erik. “I haven't asked him yet.” He called back without turning away. “So tell me Erik, what would you like – since I can't offer you any blood.”

 

Erik wasn't sure if Charles was referring to his own blood, or simply stating the fact that, unlike Erik, he had no fridge full of blood-conserves. It didn't help that a little smirk was playing around Charles' lips and that he was still standing there, waiting for Erik to come closer... And then was stepping closer since Erik hadn't move. “It's good to see you.”

 

It was hard to decide where to look. Charles smile was distracting, as were his eyes. “Tea is fine – or coffee. I like the taste of it – though no milk or sugar. I can't... deal with that.” The way the simple blue t-shirt Charles wore was stretching across his shoulders and chest, did _not_ make it easier for Erik to concentrate either. Why was he here? What had he wanted to say? Ah yes, discuss something. Would Charles' shirt rip too?

 

Charles chuckled. “I agree with your taste. Come now...” 

 

As Charles turned away from him, Erik's gaze slid down. Even though he had already seen Charles naked the way the jeans fit Charles' buttocks snugly made him want to peel the trousers down and … 

 

“What are the two of you standing there for, just sit down!”

 

Vehemently jerked out of his reveries Erik looked around, realising they were already in the kitchen, where Raven had placed a steaming mug of tea on the table. “Thank you.” Erik stood there rigidly, before he took a seat on the bench at the roughly hewn oak table. Charles looked down at him, an enigmatic smile on his lips, before he sat down beside him. 

 

“So Charles tells me you stopped nagging each other and no longer exchange notes. Good thing, or Charles would have needed another box.”

 

Erik had raised the steaming cup to his lips but now let it sink down again.

 

“Stop it!” Charles suddenly sounded embarrassed. That was interesting.

 

“What box?”

 

Raven threw a meaningful glance to the end of the table where there was indeed a large metal box. Erik didn't even bother standing up. A flick of his fingers and the lid lifted. He could see the box contents - neatly folded pieces of paper that were all too familiar. All the notes he had written to Charles. With a smug smile he let the lid sink down again, turning to see Charles making a snarling face at his sister.

 

Good thing Charles, while he'd been helping him heat the blood and seeing to his wounds after the attack, hadn't accidentally opened that one kitchen drawer, where Erik kept Charles' notes neatly sorted, filed – and indexed.

 

Charles suddenly stopped his snarling and looked at Erik oddly, as if he had... He couldn't have heard him?! Erik was sure he hadn't been thinking that loudly. Charles smiled and settled down. Raven pouted but then shrugged. “So what do vampires do all night? Apart from writing notes to werewolves.”

 

Erik didn't feel inclined to answer the nosy werewolf, he didn't even know her. Just because she was Charles' sister – Erik's gaze focused on Charles, who looked curiously at him with the hint of an eager smile playing at his lips.

 

“I have my own business.” Erik sipped his tea at last. The mild black tea blend held a hint of spices that left a pleasant aftertaste on his tongue.

 

“That sounds very mafia-like. What do you do, dispose of dead bodies? Human trafficking? Drugs?”

 

“Raven!” With an exasperated sigh Charles turned to throw a long look at his sister. 

 

“What? Vampires are shady creatures. And I can't have my brother living next to one.”

 

“You did _not_ object before. Actually you were ogling him!”

 

“Yes, but that was while you were throwing angry notes at each other – now he is sitting in your kitchen and _you_ are ogling him.”

 

Erik knew he should be offended. They were talking like he wasn't even present, but at the same time it was rather fascinating to watch. And what did she mean? Was she just trying to come back at her brother or was she serious when she said that Charles was – showing some interest in Erik's appearance? Was the shirt working its subtle charm?

 

“Actually I own an antiques shop. Of course I don't man the shop personally, since most business is made during the day, but each piece I buy and sell is personally selected by me – ensuring it is really valuable and genuine.” That pulled their attention back to him.

 

Raven sized him up. “Oh – of course. 'Cause you are an old vampire you like - know about all those old things from first hand experience and can determine if they are real or just a cheap copy, right?”

 

“Something - like that... I can tell by the smell and feel of certain textures. Modern furniture for example – chemicals are used during the manufacturing process that weren't in use in the past.”

 

Arms braced on the table, Charles was leaning closer. “So how old are you?” 

 

“Well...”

 

“No, wait, let me guess.” Charles suddenly slid along the bench towards Erik and leant in very close, so close his face was nearly touching Erik's.

 

Erik went totally still. He barely dared move his lips as he spoke. “What are you doing?”

 

“As you said, smell can tell you a lot of details, even age.” Charles' nose nearly grazed along Erik's cheek and he could hear the werewolf sniff, then there was a breath of hot air brushing against his neck as Charles angled his head a little differently. The little sigh Charles suddenly let out, had Erik close his eyes. He could hear Charles' heartbeat, mingled with the even breaths, feel the heat radiating from his body. 

 

A stifled laugh came from somewhere behind Charles.

 

Erik's eyes snapped open. Across Charles' shoulder he saw Raven bury her face in her arms on the table. Erik pressed his lips together. 

 

Suddenly Charles drew back from him and Erik was hard pressed not to grab and pull him closer again. “So, were you born in the 16th century?”

 

“What?” Puzzled, Erik stared at Charles, trying to comprehend what he had said. His mind was much too busy providing images of Charles' hot lips brushing his cheek, finding his mouth – them kissing, Charles' hands grabbing him, dragging him closer... Erik forced himself to stop, before his body would betray him. 

 

“Oh – younger? Or older?”

 

“Oh please Charles. He looks nothing like someone from the Renaissance. He's more the, hm, I'd say Regency type. Maybe … maybe Roman. I also can picture him as one of those soldiers that are painted on vases. All lean and wiry, wearing basically nothing when going to war. Except – maybe some flimsy loincloth and a cape.”

 

Charles turned his head to look at Raven. “Vases? I think that would be Greek, not Roman. But he has a cape.” Charles' attention veered back to him and he was smirking, like he was on to something.

 

Erik tried to follow their conversation. Even without having been distracted it wouldn't make much sense, he was sure. “What...?”

 

“Having existed so long you must have seen many a pretty thing – that doesn't mean you can't appreciate it still.”

 

Appreciate – Charles – yes - what? 

 

There came yet another suspicious sniggering from the other end of the table. “So tell us, before Charles licks your face.”

 

Erik blinked, trying to think why that would be bad – but then Raven was still here! “I'm – actually - I was born in the 20s.”

 

“20s what? NOT 20 AD. Fuck! Charles, he really is ancient!”

 

The shock in Raven's wide eyes was amusing, even if it could only last for a moment. “No, I mean 1920s.”

 

Silence fell.

 

Charles tilted his head to one side and a smirky smile grew at his lips. “Really, so you aren't even a hundred yet!”

 

“How come you know so much about antiquities then?” Raven butted in accusingly.

 

“My father - “ He had to stop for a moment, because thinking and talking about his human parents always felt strange and unreal. He pressed his lips together until the strange choking feeling passed, then went on calmly. “He was working as a conservator, and I picked up a bit from him.”

 

“So for a vampire you are pretty young.”

 

Erik frowned. “I am old enough.”

 

“Really, but there are vampires a thousand or two-thousand years or even older, compared to those – you are still a - fledgling.”

 

Erik narrowed his gaze. “I’m older than you!”

 

“Counted in simple years, yes, but it’s like comparing the life of a dog to that of a turtle. You can’t just put the years they lived next to each other and compare them. A one year old dog no longer is a puppy, but a one year old turtle is still a baby-turtle.”

 

Erik wasn’t sure he was following this correctly. Neither was he certain Charles was correct on what he said about turtles.“Charles, are you comparing me to a turtle?”

 

“No – though – maybe. You wear all those turtlenecks, maybe my subconscious provided the image. Anyway, my point is, putting a vampires li... – expectancy of existence and a werewolf's lifespan as a base for where we are in a contextual development, I’m more mature than you.”

 

“I’m not wearing a turtleneck now!”

 

“Interesting. He isn’t protesting your 'big bad werewolf – I’m more mature than you -shit'.”

 

Charles was smiling at him, his gaze not even straying a little from Erik’s face. “Oh, that’s because he knows I’m right and what a big werewolf I am.”

 

He shouldn't let Charles get away with such a statement. Because Charles surely was not more mature than him. No one who had deliberately peed on Erik's fence just to annoy him had the right to call themselves mature. So he couldn't let this stand. He would give Charles a piece of his mind - and get Charles riled enough so he would rip his shirt off. "You're smaller than me."

 

"Really, your retort is lacking in teeth, Erik!" Yet Charles reached out with one hand, hooked a finger into Erik's shirt and pulled at it, just teasingly. "And you know that it's true only in some ways."

 

Erik didn't dare look down and acknowledge the gesture. But he didn't need to. Charles' thumb pressed against his skin, a hot yet light caress. “You're... easily annoyed.”

 

“Look who's talking. You sent me a note first.”

 

“But you sent me a reply right away... Looks like I got under your skin, little werewolf.” Erik could feel the pull at his shirt strain and with it a prickly hot and cold feeling started to spiral outward from his belly.

 

"Oh, but... What's that?" Charles tilted his head to one side and was moving even closer, focusing on Erik's exposed neck. "I thought vampires didn't scar." Another brush of a fingertip against cool skin, this time at his neck, and Erik knew exactly what had drawn Charles' attention. 

 

"We don't. Except the first mark, it never fades." Erik had to refrain himself from reaching up to touch it. His fingers brushed Charles' hand instead.

 

Charles' finger pressed against the mark and the touch made the hair at the back of Erik's neck stand on end. "Don't..." His voice cracked. The contact made him feel more exposed, than Charles ripping all of his clothes off ever could. Yet instead of removing his hand Charles rubbed over the scar some more, looking all intent on irritating Erik it seemed. 

 

Xxx

 

Erik was in his house, his territory, close enough to touch – actually Charles was touching him right now. Rubbing his fingers over the offending mark at Erik's neck, a mark left by someone-who-was-not-Charles.

 

Erik had not been saying all that much to Charles, but his thoughts - the images, words, came through so very clear from Erik. Like little beacons flaring up now and then, drawing Charles in... all the things Erik wanted, hoped Charles would do... Erik couldn't know what he was doing, how he was projecting. Or was he? Was he doing it on purpose to drive him crazy?

 

He wanted to nuzzle Erik's neck, leaving small bitemarks and then – lick over his mouth and kiss him. 

 

A low hiss came from Erik. “Charles!” 

 

Suddenly there were teeth, sharp, pointy, close to his face. Erik was hissing and Charles found himself pushed onto his back, his hands pulled away from where he had been touching Erik and trapped in a steel-like grip. Before he could reach out with his mind, calming and soothing the suddenly angry vampire, there was a blur of motion from behind him, and something large with blue-black fur crashed into Erik, tearing him off Charles and toppling him to the ground. 'Raven!'

 

Snarling and hissing the two bodies rolled, spittle and fur went flying. Raven's jaws were snapping right above Erik's face, keeping him in check. Raven's werewolf body was bigger than Erik, bigger than Charles' own, effectively pinning down the vampire. Quickly Charles sat up and slid from the bench. “Raven, Erik, stop! Please! Raven, he didn't meant to...” Charles wasn't sure what had gone wrong. Something he had done? Somehow startling Erik? Erik hadn't given him any warning, just suddenly – or had he? Charles had been so distracted. A loud clanging made Charles turn his head. The drawer with the cutlery rattled like something was trapped in there, something that wanted out! 

 

Charles leapt. No time to change, no time... _'Erik, Erik, no! It's alright. I've got you.”_ He barrelled into his sister from the side, trying to push her off, out of harm's way. In human form he didn't stand a chance to move her even an inch. Only one other option. She would hate him for this... _'Raven, move!'_

 

She toppled to the side, leaving Charles sprawled across Erik, as an odd high-pitched whistling sound began ringing in his ears. The rational thought that he should move off Erik rattled at the back of Charles' mind, yet his instinct told him to stay put. He had to protect Erik, even if the threat was coming from the man himself.

 

Then the sound stopped. 

 

Slowly Charles raised his head. He looked at Erik, who still showed way too many teeth, but his grey eyes were widened in shock. Deliberately, Charles turned his head to look behind himself. The knives, forks and spoons from the cupboard were all hovering in the air, mere inches away, ready to embed themselves into his flesh. It wouldn't kill him, but it would hurt. 

 

With a clatter the cutlery dropped to the floor.

 

Charles took a shaky breath and pushed himself up just enough, still remaining on top of Erik. It seemed safest not to move away from him. Hesitantly he looked over at Raven. She squatted on her hindlegs, glaring at him out of yellow eyes.

 

“Raven - I'm _so_ sorry. You only meant to protect me, and I promised not to do this, but...” Charles' gaze flickered back to Erik. Raven growled. Charles glared at her. “Don't!” He took a deep breath. “We both did something we shouldn't have in order to protect each other. It's done. I think... we all could use some space to cool down. Please, could you leave for now.”

 

Another low growl came from Raven's throat, that then turned into a small whine. Slowly she stood up and shifted back. She was naked but didn't seem to care in the least as she glared down at Erik, still on his back. “If he doesn't apologize, I'll make him.”

 

“I am sure he regrets the incident as much as you do, but I think for now it's best for all, if you let me handle things in my house.”

 

For a moment it looked like she would try to put her foot down. A feral vampire and a challenge to his authority – the urge to change was crawling under his skin, the beast pushing outward.

 

Raven's lips twitched. For a moment she looked as if she wouldn't back down, then she turned around and headed out. “I'll leave you to handle things in your house – do me the courtesy of leaving my mind to myself too!” With that she was gone and moments later he could hear the front door slam closed. 

 

Part of him wanted to chase after her, snapping his jaws at her heels, making her run. Growl angrily and make her whine. And another part was examining the situation more rationally. Had she just left without a stitch of clothing on her? And more importantly, would she come back? Both sides presented valid points and were so completely different that Charles felt himself inexplicably relax in befuddlement. He whined – and had his attention pulled back by a small gasp coming from underneath him.

 

Erik. Pale and absolutely still underneath him. 

 

His shirt had gotten half torn open during the struggle, his bare chest looked pale. The perspective was oddly familiar, but Erik had been marred with burns. He seemed alright now, no claw- or bite-marks, no smell of blood. 

 

Would there even be blood?

 

Yet there was something like a heartbeat coming from the vampire, very faint and slow, but the longer he observed, the more apparent it became. He really should extend his studies to vampires. At least to one.

 

Charles licked his lips and pulled his attention back to Erik's face.

 

Cautiously, he moved, but only to straddle Erik's hips properly so he could lean over him, till his face was level with Erik's. “Erik?” Charles wasn't sure he had heard him, though his gaze seemed focused on Charles' face now. Carefully he placed one hand on Erik's shoulder and suddenly he felt him relax at the touch.

 

Urged on by that Charles continued. “I'm not sure what happened just now.” Charles tried to speak calmly, though he still felt his own heart beat rapidly in his chest. “But I didn't mean to offend you or – whatever it was that I apparently did.”

 

Instead of an answer Erik closed his eyes. A frown creased Charles' forehead. He had no manual for reading silent and subtle vampire gestures, unless the vampire in question chooses to think rather endearingly loud, but Erik's thoughts now were either non-existent or so well hidden that he couldn't even get a glimpse. Of course he could pry them from Erik's mind, but he wouldn't.

 

Gingerly, he let his hand slide along Erik's arm, stopping short where the shirtsleeves were bunched up at the crook of Erik's arm to let his thumb rub over the soft exposed skin there. Then he moved just that bit further down till he could grasp Erik's hand. _'Erik? I really don't want to go back to writing angry notes. I enjoy us talking civilised a lot more. Actually I hope we will end up doing a lot more than just talking. I heard your thoughts – some of them were rather – loud and explicit and I have to say I very much enjoyed them. Knowing that you feel attracted to me. So whatever I did there to make you...'_

 

_'I told you to stop.' T_ he sudden thought startled Charles, though the words seemed less angry but tinged with something else... But the thought came too sudden for Charles to read the full flavour of it. Yet Erik had broken his silence. Yes, Charles was willing to admit, if he were in wolf-form, he might have wagged his tail - a little.

 

Now if only he could be clear about what he'd done wrong – what he had been supposed to stop doing. _'I was rather distracted. I was touching your neck - you don't like that?'_

 

_'The bitemark. Don't...'_

 

Vulnerable! Now the undertone was clear to Charles. _'I had no idea how it might make you feel, I guess I don't know much about vampires – yet.'_ Charles licked his lips. ' _It made me feel jealous.'_

 

Suddenly Erik's eyes snapped open. Involuntarily Charles drew back, but stopped himself as he felt Erik's fingers clasp his hand in return. ' _I can't remember who turned me. Every other vampire I asked knows and remembers. I – don't.'_

 

_'You think who did it also did something to make you forget?'_

 

_'That or – it's something I better not remember.'_ The uncertainty in the thought was clear, as it was in Erik's grey eyes. 

 

Charles gently touched Erik's forehead. _'I could try and search for that memory for you. If it is still there, I might be able to tell if you yourself chose to forget it, or someone tampered with it. Then you could decide if you wanted to see it.'_

 

_'Wouldn't you know what it is before I did?'_

 

' _Probably, maybe not the entirety of it, but...oh...'_ Charles bit his lip. _'If you ever want me to look – if you feel you can trust me with this, you only have to ask – you know where to find me.'_

 

“You make your presence unmistakably known.” Erik's loud answer was gruff yet somehow relieved. It made Charles smile. 

 

“Well it got your attention.”

 

“The wrong kind.”

 

“That turned into the right kind in the end.”

 

“You are very sure of yourself.”

 

“I think I can be when you were wearing that shirt in hopes to have me tear it off.”

 

Erik looked to the side. “I didn't think THAT loudly... you can let me up now, you know.”

 

Charles studied the man under him, whom he was still straddling, Erik's hand still clasped within his own. And Erik was still holding on to him as well. “No, I don't think I can do that.”

 

Erik scowled but his attention was drawn back to Charles' face.

 

“I think I need to apologize for my sister first. She doesn't know you and only wanted to protect me.”

 

“You think I wouldn't have hurt you?”

 

“I think I can take care of myself. As you remember” - _'I can get into your head. But I believe if you'd have had more time to think, instead of getting attacked, this would have gone differently.'_

 

Erik dropped his gaze and didn't reply, he looked thoughtful. When he looked up there was a small furrow still at his brow. “You are stupid, you know.”

 

A low growl escaped Charles' throat. What hadn't his stupid sexy neighbour understood when he said he didn't want to go back to insults? 

 

“You should have stopped me. Just in case you haven't realised, there is silver amongst your cutlery.” With that Erik raised his free hand, fingers spread and before Charles could turn round to look, Erik held three cake forks and two spoons. All had the same motif of twinning roses at the handle and were tarnished black from neglect.

 

“Those...” Charles eyed them wearily. “They belonged to aunt Rose. I never got round to throwing them out, though we don't use them. They make my mouth itch and burn.” Something he'd found out the hard way as a child, when he had stuck one of them in his mouth on a dare. 

 

“I nearly impaled you with those along with the rest of the cutlery.”

 

Charles hadn't been thinking about the silver. It probably was stupid to keep it somewhere where other people could get at it. Even if he didn't let just anyone into the house to start with. And he'd thought he could trust Erik. And obviously he could, because Erik had stopped his attack. “Yet you didn't.”

 

Still Erik argued on. “I was fully aware they were silver. You couldn't have just brushed this off if it had been embedded in your spine.”

 

Charles took a deep breath, tearing his gaze away from the metal to look back into Erik's grey eyes. Did he want to scare him, warn him? “Now I really think we are past this – no more angry notes, no threatening each other.”

 

“I'm not threatening you. I'm telling you that you are stupid for not stopping me. _You_ should have stopped _me_!”

 

Charles opened his mouth to argue otherwise, then closed it again. “Oh... “ Though Erik had been rather obvious, Charles still had to ask. “You wouldn't mind if I just tapped into your head and made you stop?”

 

Erik's pointy fangs glistened wetly as he hissed. “Of course I would mind. But...” There were a lot of different lines running through Erik's head, jumbled up, yet easy to read for Charles. They all made him smile. 

 

Deliberately Charles lowered his head until their foreheads touched. Erik's eyes widened and with a loud clang the cutlery fell to the ground – as it had done before.

 

“I will keep it in mind, though it seems I'm safe enough with you.” He looked into Erik’s eyes from up close, felt Erik squirm just that little bit.

 

“...you overheard me think again?” Erik spoke softly.

 

“Yes – it was not deliberate.”

 

“Then... we are clear on this. So you can let me back up.”

 

“I'm sorry Erik, but the answer to that is still no.”

 

“You are in your human form and I think I can throw you off easily.” There was no attempt to follow the words with actions though.

 

Charles tightened his grip on Erik’s hand nevertheless. “But I think you don't really want to. I think first you will want to find out what I have to say – what I am thinking. About all the things I want to do to you.” He wanted to lick his lips, but he was so close to Erik – he just needed to tilt his head a little and he could lick Erik's instead. 

 

Erik's gaze flickered from Charles' eyes to his mouth and up again. “Yes, I want to know about that. So – show me what you are thinking.” A cool wisp of air from Erik's mouth brushed against Charles' lips.

 

“I might need my hand.”

 

Erik looked surprised, and Charles got the impression Erik thought he would only show him in his mind. But Erik was quick on the uptake and slowly smiled. “You can always give me something else to hold on to.”

 

Charles had to stifle a laugh. “So forward all of a sudden?”

 

Erik's eyes widened. “That is not! – I meant like this.” He let go of Charles' hand and put it on Charles' waist.

 

“That is an excellent idea too.” He put his freed hand against Erik's chest, taking hold of the shirt, pulling the fabric tight. “I'm somewhat mad at Raven, that she got there first. If she hadn't been here, you might not have made it into the kitchen with the shirt intact.”

 

“Oh – you heard that? And … damn.” A little embarrassed Erik didn't say it out loud, but the images flooding Charles' mind were clear. The pearly buttons – the moon – Charles howling at the moon.

 

Chuckling Charles moved his head to inspect the buttons closely. “They are pretty, but no, I was not going to sit there, panting moonstruck at your buttons. You however - “ He put his mouth against Erik's. It was odd how cool his lips felt, but they parted nonetheless welcomingly. The kiss was slow and leisurely at first but it sent sparks down Charles' spine and he was sure next time he met Erik when he was in wolf form he would not be able to stop himself from constant tail wagging. 

 

Really, they should have skipped the stupid notes and gone to this right away. So much more satisfying.

 

Charles deepened the kiss, thrusting his tongue into Erik's mouth. Erik's response was enthusiastic until there was a vague sense of panic coming from him. Charles drew back breathing heavily. “Erik? What is it?”

 

Erik cringed, frustrated and Charles got a glimpse of Erik's cute fangs on full display. “Damn – I can't control it, not when I'm – fuck. I told you I can't drink were-blood.”

 

“You think if I accidentally cut myself on your teeth you'll get sick?”

 

“Yes.” Erik sounded angry, though not at Charles.

 

Charles looked down at Erik’s face for a moment. He let go of his shirt to rub his thumb over Erik's lips. ”We'll just have to be careful with what I put into your mouth.” 

 

The words took Erik by surprise, but he kept his eyes on Charles like he was fascinated.

 

“And I'm sure I can find a lot of other places to kiss.” He started at the corner of Erik's mouth. Erik pressed his lips together but as Charles moved on, spreading kisses and little licks down to Erik's ear, he gasped. A sound Charles wanted to hear more of. “Your neck, would it be alright for me to kiss that, on the opposite side of the mark?”

 

Erik swallowed. “Yes.”

 

Charles licked along Erik's ear, being rewarded by a surprised little shiver that ran through Erik's body, before he gently nipped at Erik's throat then left a trail of suckling kisses down toward his chest. Erik's grip on his waist tightened while his other hand moved up Charles' leg, rubbing it through the denim of his jeans. “Charles!” To hear him moan his name was even better.

 

The buckle of Charles' belt came undone while both button and zipper worked themselves loose. Erik's hands slid under Charles' shirt, running up his body, cool against Charles' hot skin, leaving a pleasantly prickling trail. Yet they were warmed by Charles' bare skin as they then slid down into his pants, grasping Charles' growing erection. ”Erik- “ 

 

Trying not to move from Erik's wonderful hands he tugged at Erik's trousers, just shoving his hand right under the hem as he couldn't work open the hook and button with one hand, still bracing himself with the other. It was hard to move his hand restrained as it was by Erik's trousers and underwear but it found its way to where he wanted it, in the end. He wrapped his fingers around Erik's cock, finding him not fully hard yet, but he pushed his hips into the touch. “Fuck your hand is hot.”

 

“Good or bad?”

 

“Don't stop.” Erik hissed.

 

“Good then. I wouldn't dare think of it.” He leant forward, nipped at Erik's chin, then his lips - he wanted all of Erik, including the taste of his mouth. He sucked at his lower lip. Erik tried to move his head away. 

 

“No, please kiss me. It'll be alright.” More than alright, he was sure.

 

“Can't – teeth.”

 

_'Trust me.'_ It was easier to imagine what he wanted than to put into words. Erik relaxed, his mouth parted and his tongue followed the invitation, leaving Charles moaning from the way Erik's tongue teased his mouth.

 

Erik reached up with his free hand and cupped Charles' cheek. Charles turned his face into the touch, kissing Erik's hand, licking his fingers and gently biting them. “Charles – can we...” 

 

“Mhmmm, what?”

 

Erik hesitated. “We're still wearing clothes.”

 

Charles gave a low chuckle. “An accurate observation... I need both my hands - for now.” He gave Erik's cock a gentle squeeze that had Erik buckle underneath him, before pulling his hand back from Erik's trousers. He would deal with those shortly. He thrust into Erik's hand, it felt so good but … he pulled Erik's hand away, pinning his wrist to the ground, pushing it against the wooden floor to indicate what he wanted before he let go. Erik looked up at him questioningly but kept his hand where Charles had left it.

 

Charles ran his hands up Erik's body, rumpling the black shirt, then he gripped it and pulled. The shiny buttons went flying, the torn black fabric frameing Erik's pale body in stark contrast. He looked gorgeous. Lovingly Charles ran a hand down along Erik's pale skin. It was odd to not feel him breathe, but there was a little shiver, a tensing of muscles that told him Erik was very much alive in other ways nonetheless.

 

“Better? Though...” Charles looked down, wanting to continue tearing the trousers off as well, leaving Erik completely exposed.

 

Erik shook his head, yet took Charles' hand and pulled it up to rest on his head. Charles complied, buried his fingers in Erik's hair, looked into his eyes.

 

Erik opened his mouth, then licked his lips. “I want you to...”

 

Charles touched his mouth against Erik's, then slowly licked over his lips. _'Just show me, don't hold back.'_

 

Yet, there was a moment of reluctance before Erik closed his eyes.

 

Bed, pillows, Charles' body on top of his, pressing him down into the soft sheets, pushing against him, their erections trapped between their bodies, as Erik's hands were trapped in Charles' grip while he was biting and sucking at Erik's neck, leaving a mark that wouldn't fade because Charles would renew it again and again... and he was filled with Charles' heat and heartbeat pulsing against him, making his body vibrate and echo in return.

 

Charles moaned, pressed his lips against Erik's mouth and sucked at his lower lip, biting down. He wanted to deepen the kiss, to show Erik just how much he wanted to do everything Erik had shown him, yet couldn't. But he could do something better. He scrambled up before Erik could stop him. Then held out his hand, eyes fixed on him, pupils blown wide, chest heaving. “Lets take this into my bedroom right now!” 

 

Erik nodded hesitantly, like he was still figuring out Charles' words. Yet he took hold of the hand and let Charles pull him up. His gaze searched Charles' face and suddenly he was grinning in excitement. “Yes, just show me the way.” 

 

 

xxx

 

The mottled green blanket was down on the floor, just one corner still touching the bed. The sheets were rumpled and two of the pillows had toppled over to join the blanket. The window was open a crack, letting cool night air into the room illuminated by the soft light coming from the bedside lamps.

 

Erik lay with his head resting on Charles' shoulder, taking in the warmth and scent from his skin. Under Erik's hand Charles' heartbeat was a constant beat, that had finally settled down to a languid rhythm. One of Charles' arms was wrapped around Erik, with the other hand he drew lazy circles across Erik's arms. He hadn't felt so relaxed and – pleasantly worn out in a long time. He would love to stay like this forever – 

 

But before his thoughts could settle on that he sent them on – back, to Charles, focusing on him, his even breath, the way it made his chest rise and fall, the little movements, unconscious mainly. A little shift of the leg Charles had pulled over Erik's, when he flexed his toes. A tiny twitch that ran through his muscles. Erik let his fingers run over Charles' chest, felt the little responses from his touch. He moved them along Charles' ribcage, underneath which the wooden stake had been embedded.

 

Erik's fingers stilled. His mind stayed on the thought, focused.

 

Suddenly it hit Erik – there was still one subject he had completely ignored – forgotten – gotten distracted from. And he felt embarrassed, guilty even. 'Damn it.'

 

Charles opened his eyes. “What's wrong? Forgot a pint of blood on the stove.”

 

Erik reached round and gave Charles' butt a little slap that only made Charles' chuckle. “You know I use the microwave for that! - I just realised...” Erik stopped, then moved so he was looking down at Charles, pushing him back into the sheets along the way.

 

“You want to do this every night? I very much hope it is that.”

 

Erik rolled his eyes. “You've been driving me crazy from the moment I moved here.”

 

“You realised that just now?”

 

“I am trying to be serious here.” Erik frowned down at Charles with his best scolding face, yet Charles seemed oblivious, his blue eyes sparkling mischievously. It would have to do. “We've been driving each other crazy with those notes and yet you didn't hesitate to come to my aide. And I want to thank you for that.”

 

Charles started laughing. Whatever Erik had thought his reaction would be, it wasn't that. He drew back, only to be caught in Charles' arms who released a growl, the menacing sound ruined by another laugh. “You think of that now? Really?”

 

“I have been thinking about it a lot and how to bring it up. Simply saying thank you doesn't seem appropriate though. The words can't express how much I appreciate what you did for me.”

 

Charles' expression slowly changed, grew more serious. “Hmmm, you are right, they really don't.” Erik felt Charles' muscles tense, even so it took him by surprise as Charles suddenly grabbed his arms, twisted round and rolled him till Erik was on his belly, pushed into the bed by Charles' body on top of his, with his arms pinned beside his head. Instinctively Erik tried to test Charles hold, straining against him. A short growl and Charles tightened his hold.

 

He could throw Charles off easily, yet.

 

A gust of hot breath was all the warning he got before Charles nuzzled his neck up to his hairline , biting gently along the way. It sent a delicious shiver down Erik's spine.

 

He could still throw Charles off, but he sure as hell didn't want to.

 

“So to repay me.” Charles growled low at his ear.

 

“Yes?”

 

“Whenever I ask it of you, you will scratch my belly and ears when I am in wolf-form.”

 

“What?!” 

 

“You are in my debt, so no complaining. But that's only the second part of your repayment.”

 

“What is the first then?”

 

“You'll see.” Charles started spreading kisses across his shoulders, like a fiery wet trail that followed Erik's spine down...

 

“Oh... oh yes!”

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little extra. Inspired by this picture that appeared on my dashboard on tumblr.   
> Photo from here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/sadistic_tensai/9719813489/
> 
> [Lonelyparts](../../../users/lonelyparts/pseuds/lonelyparts) on beta-duty here again.

 

"You have to see this!" Charles' hold on his hand was unyielding, as was the way he dragged him along at a rather undignified pace. 

 

“Perhaps next time I should put you on a leash.” He knew how his werewolf reacted to any comments that compared him to a dog. Charles still went into a growly sulking-mode for hours whenever Erik mentioned the dog-whistle – or even used it. But Erik secretly loved the way Charles got riled up – sometimes in rather unexpected ways.

 

Charles stopped so suddenly that Erik reflexively used his powers to steady himself. The brief moment of inattention was enough for Charles to move and twist Erik's arm behind his back uncomfortably. 

 

Erik decided he probably could break free, but not without them wrestling on the ground. And though it was dark, there were still enough people about, that they would attract attention. So he didn't resist – and it had nothing to do with the way Charles stood close, his body pressed up against Erik's. The low growl coming from him resonated through Erik, unfurling a delicious heat in his groin.

 

Charles raised an eyebrow and grinned. “Now let me show you this quickly, and then we can get back home.” The mental image Charles sent along with his words made it clear what he had in mind for the rest of the night. A small gasp escaped Erik and he could only nod, while he tried not to accidentally bite himself with his suddenly lengthened incisors. It was almost regretful he couldn't bite Charles, but werewolf blood was poisonous to him.

 

Another image rose up almost nonchalantly, while Charles stepped back and they resumed their walk down the street. It was of Erik biting down on one of the dog-chew-toys he had given Charles. 

 

“Charles!”

 

“What? I think I finally understand why you gave those to me as a present. Good thing I didn't throw them out.”

 

Erik's protest was drowned out by the sudden realisation that Charles had kept them. Something that annoyed him, but he had kept regardless...

 

“Alright, here we are. This is what a vampire's house should look like, don't you think?”

 

It wasn't easy, but Erik dragged his attention away from Charles and looked around. They stood opposite a large house, painted a dark grey or greyish green. It was hard to tell by the light from the street-lamps. But what stood out were the gold decorations. It did look – nice, but... “I like purple.”

 

Beside him Charles sighed. “I had noticed.”

 

“You don't like the way I painted my home?”

 

“Well I just think it is a bit... much. Especially since you added the magenta paint on the fence and the grates on the windows...and the door.” Charles slid an arm around his waist. “You might not notice it, since you only see the place at night, but in broad daylight it looks a bit... much.” He touched his forehead and Erik could see what Charles had seen, though he couldn't figure out what was particularly wrong with it. 

“I think it gives off a certain subtle sinister air.”

 

“Subtle?!” The growl was unmistakeable in Charles' voice. “Alright, I give up. I'm going to paint my place blue and yellow, what do you think of that?”

 

“The colours will clash with my place.”

 

“Really, suddenly you have a sense for colours?!”

 

Erik looked back at the building Charles had been so desperate to show him. “You would prefer if I painted my place like this?”

 

“I'm sorry Erik, but yes. After all I'm the one who has to look at it most of the time.”

 

He had to concede that in that regard Charles was right, Erik himself hardly got to enjoy the sight of his place, except when he was coming and going. He did see more of Charles' house though, whenever he looked over, or came over... he wouldn't like it if Charles painted it differently, except... “What if we both paint our places differently? Not blue and yellow and not purple, but what if I tone down the colour of my place, add a bit of that.” He pointed at the grey and gold house. “And you add a bit of purple to yours.”

 

Charles seemed to give it some thought, then Erik could feel him relax against him. “A compromise? Hm, I like that idea.” He pulled Erik a little closer and Erik suddenly felt that anything less would not be an option. He leant down, brushed his lips against Charles' mouth that opened to invite him in for a long kiss.


End file.
